Tag Archives: Vivek Bhasin

The New Normal at Christmas and Beyond…December 24th 2021

Blue skies over Simla
It’s soon a full moon
Radiating the second flat
As I sit on the benches and look at Tara Devi
The last flickering lights of the train disappear
one last turn a fast bend and into the tunnel and now gone..
to the other side..

life then was simple simon
Less people on the planet
Simla was a small town and
My BCS far away from the madding crowd…

Boarding schools were situated on spurs I said  looking down I see White Temple, Buffalo Pond, the Hutty;  I turned my neck to the left and perched the top of a desolate mountain Pari Mahal..strains of sitar..

Life was simple, the air was simple, the breeze clear and whistling, sunsets too perfect magenta orange and fiery red.

Some voice across from the tennis courts reminds me.. it’s half a century ago .. changes come through decades; the cart road now dust dust and dust; a million cars parked, little rust buckets and half built ugly structures called homes hang precariously on edges;suicidal homes… humanity never stops fornicating; there will be wars; not for territorial expansion but water wars…

I am told a solitary flying squirrel lives on the roof of The Lodge..stuck in a time zone…

2021 is slowly turning the bend
so I need to reminisce on days gone by you know …

I managed and trudged and got my arse into the land of our divine .. my first AZ shot gave me the boost of confidence as they say …

I shot up to School
slept under electric blankets
and dreamt of monkeys riding on zebras sky high in the sky..

I preached and talked and mentored the young ones hearing that old song much popular by Cliff Richard..

I enjoyed Salmon in the hills and
Queso by Francois and his petite esposa
and looked at the washed stars on a perfect night amongst the deodars ..

S&R stayed on course..
Charts laid in ink
through trough and thin
cement wood stones and paint
never too late
It’s barely 162 years
yet energies with synergies
and finally reality..

Whilst I fed apples to wild hare
and heard the bells of cows
I picked up my walk and fed my soul at St. James
at El Monasterio Santiago de Campostela..

I guess I was the only fella
at Bar Escudo del Carmen
in Calle 13
looking at past storms and the Armada
I felt safe in the crowds at Granada with Hermano Antoniocito..

Yet stubbornness prevailed and walking through Benrath
later in Stockholm leaving Karlstad
I came back through the Gates
A perfect morning..

Completely complete
Luncheon
War Memorial
and KC
I shed my garb
and perched on that stone…

…that’s where I still am
As Christmas has arrived
Strange times Strange vibes
The chilled wind
I still sit on that stonez

Wishing you all
Feliz Navidad
and hoping the world will be
a better place a week from
today .. Happy New Year…

Kindest Regards and Best Wishes,
Vivek / Bonnie Bhasin
Sitting elf-like on boundary stone in the cold dark winter of Simla.

X’mas 2021
In SWEDEN yet at the edge of BCS.

Good Reading: Bonnie BHASIN

“ Dad” Mahinder Nanda Esq; Global CEO of the Male Shaver’s PLATINUM Guild & SUDOKU Wizard..

As a young boy at BCS there lived amongst us thinnies’n skinnies a couple of hairy rascal gorillas in both the Rivaz & Lefroy Dorms… one I distinctly remember was a chap, short stocky compact with a loaded bristles-forever-face. The dude was sixteen but looked like yes, a mature gorilla with hairy arms that sort of nearly touched his ankles. If his hair wasn’t dark and jet black I could have sworn he was a Gorillorangutan, yes you too may have guessed, his parents “could” have been Gorilla and Orangutan one of each and “could” have met in the tropical jungles when hot-humid-pissing-down-in the rain forests, both seeking shelter from buckets of rain holding huge wild ferns over their heads, sitting next to each other staring ahead into the dark green sweltering heat with dragon flies a plenty…but as instincts call they both turned towards one another and Sweet Hallelujah it was LAFS; simplifying it-it was Love At First Sight, quite a scandal amongst the Gorilla and Orangutan tribes, but who gave a toss of banana scandals… and so the priest , another rascal of a Chimpanzee calling himself “ The Most Reverend ChiChoBonaparte” wed the 💏 couple in love ( thankfully the Orang was a Lady of the Highest Order and the Gorr a Gentleman who was a graduate from the esteemed HSBC, the Harvard School of Baboons & Connivers ( not the bloody bank).

Recollect readers the hairy Cottonian’s parents only-possibly, “could“ have been the two Apes…no?

The chap was a Rivazian and I looked at his face in awe; he was in Fifth Form and I in Upper One, so we were around ten years apart along with the fact his face, a layer of thick blue-green of bristles; we guys were silky smooth something like Cadbury’s chocolate.

Having the courage to ask him one day about his bristles and how they came about etcetra … he appeared smooth as silk too.. baffled! but still I ventured to ask nervously and he…“ I shave twice a day “ .. “Lola” replied with a confident smirk ‘n swagger and just jazzed off like a real star of the bristle brigade into the Tara Devi sunset ..yes Lola and another new fandangled word for him “Jhariaa” or thick bushes with bramble that butterflies-afraid-to perch on was his second nick name.

Many of us wondered what that word “ shave” was all about…

Of course I tried to ask many in Lefroy, even the surdies who boasted Rapunzel hair under their turbans; none had the foggiest about bristles’ n beards and how “Lola the Jhariaa” was ahead of the hairy curve.

Lola passed out from BCS and except for a scant one or two strands emanating from some other dude’s follicles I never encountered another Gollirorangutan passed my ten years in School.

Another year and two passed.. I was going to join the band of gypsies as The Merchant Marine called.. By now a few strands had emerged in my regale chin too and I was told by the Company Superintendent “ report on board with your packed kit bag; a shave every day with a decent hair cut”. ….

The first ablution! Shave! And still I was lost. My Father was away to Sandheads so Mum said she would book a trunk call to Bombay and I “ should speak to Mahinderji who will be able to explain slowly carefully and simply how you should shave 🪒 “
I remember trunk calls during the early 1970’s were a Big Deal; with water and sewage in the trunk line it was required to shout loud and hard as there were 2000 kms between Calcutta and Bombay..as it was important that your neighbours heard you, so impressed by the howls and screams after all this was a Trunk Call not a telegram..

The trunk call was all I needed..

to understand the beard to be weeded

Mahenderji, a real shaving ace

Asked me to feel the contours of my face

Mine was smooth rough low high beard

Don’t fret it will feel initially weird

Now wash your face with hot water

A nice badger brush to build up lather

those days the cream he used was Old Spice

Impressed me do not roll the dice

stick to that cream good advise from the wise

Now a safety razor with seven’o’clock

that I applied, nicked and in shock

Follow the lines of your chiseled face

Long confident strokes you will make

Like the smooth Kalka Simla train

Beware never ever against the grain…

and so my story goes, it was Thanks to Dad Mahenderji I learnt the art of shaving. He was a little skeptic on showing me tricks on designing my moustache since he had a gallant sophisticated bigote and I wasn’t allowed to sport one.
Whenever my ship docked after transatlantic voyages at Bombay, I bounded across to Silver Oaks to meet the Global CEO of The Male Shaver’s PLATINUM guild who studied the fine contours of my face; we heaped praises and plati-accolades on each other’s fine performances most he-to-me in his humble way; I always took copious notes but I knew then I still hadn’t achieved the ski lines or the glowing freshness of DAD’s and had much to learn, to complete many badger-creme-razor voyages before I could shave on a dark night with only lightning striking the palms above in a pouring rainforest…. as a Gorilla and Orangutan madly in love holding hands sat watching me…

.. till date the shaving lectures I received have being ingrained in my memory…….perhaps it was the deafening rock concerts I went to, the roll, pitch and pounding of my ship catching me off balance that I shaved my tuft against the grain too often and Alas! My Beard is amongst the damnedest sharpest roughest the world has ever seen or anyone has felt ( wink ! wink!)

But I remain ever grateful to “ DAD” who continued to impress the Yanks with his mathematical wizardry; fifty years ago whilst visiting Japan Dad met Emperor Shōwa Hirohito who asked him “besides Honda Toyota Kawasaki and Seiko what else could the Imperial Rising Sun give to the world”?

Dad whilst enjoying a plate of salmon sushi and saki smiled and bowing to His Royal Highness … whispering questioning “Royal Highness .SODOKU.?”

Confused HRH Shōwa with a high brow responded …”Please expand Nanda San ….”
… and Dad replied.smiling again …
“ Your Royal Highness…Suji wa dokushin ni kagiru “

And that’s when it all started …
First THE ART OF SHAVING &
Later SUDOKU WIZARDRY

🙏❤️🙏Dad!
Wizard of Many
Dragon Slayer of Sudoku …..from Easy to Evil.
Global CEO of The Male Shaver’s Platinum Guild

Bonnie ( Vivek )Bhasin
Lefroy 1961-1970
Still Shaving .. imperfectly
Still referring to copious notes..

(Also in memory of Lola the Jhariaa Sharma .. wherever your growth has taken you..Bro 🙏)

08 Aug 2021

BCS 162nd Founder’s Day 28th July 2021

Up in the greens of Simla
on a magnificent spur
S I T U A T E D
is an institution steeped in history..
As young boys we arrived
with some trepidation
some anxiousness and many not knowing then…
WHEN..
time is finally up
through the stone corridors
the dorms, the classroom, the Irwin Hall, Linlithgow, Remove, Main School, the Biology and Chem lab, the flats, the courts, the bakery, the war memorial, the art block, Chipu’s, the Lodge and The Chapel….
walking running singing howling acting sitting grubbing laughing smiling melancholic ..now at so many points on the planet ..
we yearn to be there
even for a brief moment.
Today I close my eyes
and arrive through the global positioning systems in my mind..
like a drone hovering above capturing the entire print of this beautiful place…
I can see ..
we all arrive
in mind body and spirit..
all in congregation
each drone different
each drone uniquely the same..
like mists rising after
today’s sweet summer rain
we inhale the bouquet of the earth , the pine laden wind…
looking down from the skies
we see the young Cottonians
looking up at the sky
pointing at us
smiling from the benches
they shout at us in glee..
our propellers create a whirlwind..
they hold on to their school caps
as their metal badge beat on their chest…
insisting we all land ..
but today ..
not today
we came above
in the sky
to pay obeisance
to our great institution..
on our one hundred and sixty second Founder’s Day
we know …
Bishop Cotton School,
Our School … will be there for us..
F O R E V E R 🙏

Vivek ( Bonnie) Bhasin
28 July 2021
on the 162nd year of my Alma mater.

In continuation….

Sunday..
The quiet day..
I rise with the sun
and hear a multitude of birds..
Is it the dream I had last night
or the arrow that flew as Rush rushed past singing “The Garden..”
I had butterflies in my gut..
weakness in my knees
my body spoke
but did I listen? Ever did?
“ Pack your bags Gypsy-you Gitano-you Ziginare* “ they whispered.. “it’s time to leave, to depart again yet again and now again…”
They smiled at me as I floated down…
Walked with me on the charted path..
through the corridors I trudged my shoes hitting the shining stones where we and you’ve walked..
They opened the doors..
I silently stepped in
so many memories..
and songs of praise echoing all around ..
every moment was precious,
every step was slow and measured..
I reached the Alter..
I stopped and looked and knelt..
staring up at
Our Good Shepherd..
And the voice..
“ The Navigator has come home..”
I closed my eyes as my thoughts swooshed from the mountains to the valleys and shot across the lands arriving at the oceans of the world, zipped over the continents looking down at all those faces who knew me more than I knew them… and in those priceless seconds I was back where I belonged.
It was time to leave, yet again…
I turned and bowed my head as they smiled and I knew..
walking along the passage besides our Chapel to
The Lawrence Gate.. with a heavy heart..
I glanced up and saw Linlithgow and the stone steps leading down to the Irwin Hall, the Chapel and the Dining Hall.
Yes.. I see myself as that five year old coming down those steps in a queue, no sound no whisper..
I stopped and call for you..
Can you not hear me? Read my lips or at least acknowledge my presence..?
My presence is an old man who moved out of your five year old shell.. you look happy my five year old ..
and me your sixty five..
“ I and I we both are.. but I am not leaving this place; I am barely five .. but you must go back into the cacophony of sounds at this age your stage .. for me your young one, I will wait for your return eagerly…”
The steps remain
The corridors remain
everything else is frozen in a time zone .. except myself ..I continue to grow and age..
Whilst my other I, stays…
don’t we both still have the same name ..?”
“Yes yes I plead- no never change even if the clock ticks away, I will hold back time…
And I will but return to meet you .. perhaps then..
you will leave
and
I will stay..”🙏❤️

My School
Living in its own time ..
Vivek Bonnie BHASIN
Lefroy 1961-1970
*gitano-ziginare : Gypsies
Easter Sunday 04 April 2021


– Vivek Bhasin

Vivek [Bonnie] Bhasin visits BCS

We were very happy to welcome back Old Cottonian, Captain Vivek (Bonnie) Bhasin who visited BCS to pass on some of his style and Sharper Edge tips to the X & XII classes and staff. He put on a very entertaining show in the Irwin Hall which we’re sure will help Cottonians in the big wide world. Thanks Bonnie.